


Under Orders

by cincoflex, starhawk2005



Category: House M.D.
Genre: BDSM, Cane!smut, F/M, Het, Smut, my kinks let me show them to you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-31
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-13 06:58:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cincoflex/pseuds/cincoflex, https://archiveofourown.org/users/starhawk2005/pseuds/starhawk2005
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to a story originally by Cincoflex. House and Cameron continue to explore their budding D/s relationship - one version is written by cincoflex, the other by yours truly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: House and Cameron don’t belong to either of us. We just like to imagine that they do.  
> Authors’ Notes: Not spoilery, but it is a sequel to a birthday fic cincoflex wrote for starhawk2005.

**The original fic, written by cincoflex, can be found[here.](http://www.cincoflex.net/hmd/pop.html)**

Allison Cameron wasn’t sure she could take the anticipation any more; at the same time the delicious thrill of uncertainty kept a tingle running through her, like a faint electric current.

Ever since her birthday spanking from House, she’d felt the faint but undeniable connection to the man; a connection that she knew affected him as well. Memories of their sweetly erotic encounter kept coming back to her at the oddest moments in her days, and it was difficult not to smirk (or moan) when they did. 

Her colleagues were clueless of course. Neither of them were much on subtleties, and in any case, House was the master of distraction with his outrageous remarks and pointed insults. Chase and Foreman’s diagnostic skills might have been getting sharper, but their observational ones were as bland as ever, and Allison decided she liked that just the way it was. 

At the moment House was listing out symptoms on the whiteboard, and most of them seemed to be pointing to a neurological diagnosis—not exactly boring, but not quite as exciting as something unusual . . . 

“ . . . So while you and Chase do the tests, Cameron and I are going to check out the man’s apartment.”

Startled, Allison blinked, and looked at House. He gave her a quick glance, then deliberately looked at Chase and Foreman, who shrugged.

“Good luck---there’s a lot of snow out there. You might have a heck of a time getting TO his place,” Foreman pointed out. House glanced out the window, to where the falling snow drifted down.

“Eh, it should let up in a while. Besides, it’s not as if Captain Unconscious is going anywhere in the next few days.”

The two men nodded, and Allison ducked her head, trying not to let her amusement show. When they’d left to go carry out the first of a battery of tests, she looked up to see House looming over her, his bright blue eyes searching her face.

“You look like you’re thinking dangerous thoughts,” he murmured intently. She set her pen down deliberately.

“Not dangerous ones . . . just . . . interesting ones,” she offered back in a soft voice. House’s smirk flashed out, and his eyes grew smoky for a moment.

“Our patient is in the midst of post-polio syndrome, so he’s going to be here at the hospital for the next three days, easily. Nothing he’s got came from contamination—the PPS is from childhood, probably when he and his parents were living in South America.”

“So you just sent Chase and Foreman off to do a dozen tests that mean nothing?” she should have sounded more scandalized, but her tone was amused. House cocked his head thoughtfully.

“Oh, they’ll mean something . . . eventually. Foreman should have picked up on it by the second symptom, and Chase---“ he sighed dismissively. Looking at her again, House narrowed his gaze. “I thought that since the two of them would be occupied for the better part of a day, and since a good doctor checks out ALL potential sources of infection, however impossible they might be, that you and I might thoroughly check out the luxurious penthouse apartment.”

Allison shot a quick look out the window, where the snow was coming down a bit more thickly. “House—we might get snowed in,” she murmured.

He arched an eyebrow and smiled. 

“Oh no, you and I trapped together in a stranger’s apartment by a blizzard. With probably a hot-tub and a fridge full of foie gras and expensive champagne,” House said drolly. “I can’t imagine the _horror_ of it.” But his eyes were telling her a very different story. A story she wanted to hear the end of. Anything to strengthen their new connection.

She smirked herself, looking at him from under demure, lowered eyelashes. “I don’t know how we’ll cope if that happens.”

“I’m resourceful, I’ll find a way,” House said, limping over to his leather jacket. “Besides, you’re my minion. According to your contract, that means you have to do what I tell you.” The look in his eyes gave a double meaning to his words.

“Yes….Doctor,” Allison answered, thinking back to their earlier spanking session. He remembered, too, she saw, as his mouth flexed and he adjusted a rather obvious erection right in front of her.

“Good girl,” he said. “We’ll start by giving you a choice. You can tell me some of those…‘interesting’ thoughts of yours. Or, if you prefer, you can go to the ladies’ room, remove your panties, and bring them back to me.”

His first order left her wide-eyed and blushing. She didn’t want to go ‘commando’, especially to search a patient’s house, but she also didn’t want to admit the things she’d been thinking about. Images tumbling through her mind, of House tying her up, spanking her, of even using his cane on her in a most deliciously sinful and vastly inappropriate way. She didn’t want to admit the questions she’d tormented herself with; whether his stubble would tickle or burn, how deep those long, artistic fingers might be able to work their way into her. Whether he’d be satisfied with forcing her into one orgasm, or whether he’d make her have them throughout the night. How far he would push her.

She wavered, uncertain. House was getting impatient, frowning his disapproval. “Pick something soon, my naughty girl, or I’ll pick _for_ you.” He shuffled his feet and shrugged into his leather jacket, his eyes locked to hers the whole time.

Allison made her decision and stood up before she could change her mind. Better to be (partially) physically naked than emotionally naked in front of House. “Be right back, Doctor,” she said, briskly walking out and heading for the nearest washroom.

She couldn’t look in the mirror when she got there. She was sure anyone looking at her expression would see what was going on. That she was doing something exciting, but forbidden. Potentially dangerous.

Allison went into the stall, fumbling to undo her pants. She groaned to herself, realizing she’d have to remove her pantyhose, too, and she struggled to get it off quickly without tearing it. House was waiting, and he wasn’t a patient man at the best of times.

Finally, she got her panties off, glad that she’d been wearing thongs to work ever since House’s birthday visit. These were lacy and black, screaming ‘sex’, and if she had to hand over any pair to House, these were the ones she would’ve selected.

She glared at the pantyhose, then finally decided not to bother putting them back on, balling them up instead. It would take too long, and besides, it was one less layer House would have to take off her. 

By the time she got back to his office, House was sitting behind the desk, still wearing his leather jacket and twirling his cane dexterously.

He didn’t look at her, just held out his free hand. “Gimme.”

She walked over and placed the balled-up underwear into his big palm. He glanced at the material, then shook it out, a devilish look on his face. Allison blushed again and didn’t move, hoping her body would shield the sight of her underwear from anyone passing in the hallway.

“Very nice, Allison,” he said huskily, and then brought the scrap of lace to his nose, breathing deeply while his eyes gleamed at her like a hungry predator’s.

He unzipped his jacket and stuffed her panties into the top pocket of his blazer like some lacy hanky, and then rose to his feet, nodding at the motorcycle helmet resting on his easy chair. “Take that with you,” he instructed.

“We’re taking your bike?” The thought of it vibrating underneath her, with nothing separating the seat from her naked sex but the thin fabric of her slacks…it made her want to shiver in dismay and anticipation.

“No questions, Allison,” he said sharply. “Get dressed. Move your _very_ well-crafted ass.”

Allison did as she was told, hurrying to put on her boots and her coat, very conscious of House at the door of his office, cane tapping an edgy staccato against the floor. 

 

***

The parking garage of Maxim DeFiorza’s building was huge, and nearly empty. House had rolled up and inserted the passkey, then waited as the security camera swung to focus on him.

“This is Mr. DeFiorza’s private pass.” came the quiet electronic accusation. House nodded grimly.

“And I’m Mr. DeFiorza’s physician from Princeton-Plainsboro. I have his full consent to search his apartment for medical reasons.” House held up his ID to the camera; Allison did too.

A few moments later, the heavy sliding door opened. “You have authorization. Thank you.”

House gunned the bike inside and took the handicapped parking space nearest the elevator. Allison waited until he’d parked before sliding off the seat, feeling warm despite the snow over her shoulders and back. 

Whoever had called a motorcycle a turbo-charged vibrator knew what they were talking about, she decided. It had been a challenge to shift herself on the seat so that the highly distracting thrum didn’t send her off on a magic ride of her own. She could imagine herself clutching House harder, and his knowing smirk had that happened . . . 

But it hadn’t. She’d been determined not to, and focused on the single side trip they’d made to House’s home before arriving here. Now, a leather and canvas backpack lay strapped to the back of the bike, and as she took off her helmet, House motioned to it with his chin.

“Bring the backpack; I’ll get the helmets.”

It took only a moment or two, and then they were standing in front of the elevator, waiting for the car to descend. No buttons; passkey again. Allison drew a breath.

“How rich IS this patient?”

“Oooh Maxim D. is magnificently wealthy. His family owns the patent on the retractable ball point pen, and I’m sure you have an idea of how many of _those_ little babies are sold every day.”

Allison drew in another breath. “So he’s got a penthouse apartment.”

“So he owns the building; penthouse is his by default. Not that he uses it much—all his Internet stalkers know he prefers his Manhattan one in the winter season.” House corrected. The car arrived and opened; they stepped into a car with marble walls and hammered brass inlays. House took the passkey and inserted it.

He spoke loudly. “I know it’s a long shot, but there may be some environmental factor to Mr. DeFiorza’s illness and his apartment needs to be checked out.” Meaningfully he looked first at her, then up to the corner of the elevator, to the security camera discreetly embedded in the Art Deco design there. Allison carefully glanced away, trying not to smirk.

“Yes, it’s a good idea to make sure every possible cause is checked and eliminated,” she agreed, her words slightly stilted.

The car rose up swiftly, and House added, “I just hope it doesn’t take too long. The forecast is for a storm tonight, and I don’t want to get snowed in.” 

The elevator stopped and the doors slid open to a marble hallway; beautiful but slightly chilly. When the doors closed behind them, House added, “—Alone, that is. Okay, the security ends at the elevator, and he’s got a security panel just inside the door that I have the override to, so we’re going to be fine.”

“How do you KNOW all this?” Allison wondered aloud as House used a different passkey on the sophisticated door lock. He smirked over his shoulder at her.

“I have my sources.” Carefully he stepped into a lush foyer, and touched a gilt-framed miniature of the Italian countryside; the painting swung open like a door, revealing a panel of buttons. House deftly tapped in the security code and the lights went on in the other rooms; the heating kicked in as well. He closed the painting gently, then waved with his cane towards the enormous living room suite ahead of them. “Won’t you step into my parlor said the spider—“

“—I’m not a fly,” Allison objected, but faintly. She looked around the living room in awe.

It was an airy spacious place, with vaulted ceilings of slanted glass that showed off the grey sky and falling snow above. Wood crossbeams cut across the high spaces, and the décor was lean and expensive, with genuine leather sofas and a glass coffee table with sand and seashells encased in it. Along the far wall an inset fireplace already had a blaze going, the warmth a cheery invitation. Underfoot, thick carpeting in neutral tones complemented the wood and glass décor. House looked around, impressed against his will.

“Decadent and perfect—just what the doctor ordered. Let’s go see the bedroom, shall we?” he muttered with a hint of lasciviousness. Allison draped her coat on the mahogany rack beside the door and followed House, feeling awed at the place. It was beautiful, certainly, but empty too— more of a setting waiting for occupants than a real home. The sound of House’s voice made her hurry, and she nearly bumped into him at the doorway.

“Oh yes, this is absolutely ideal!” he gloated. Allison looked and blinked, her pretty mouth falling open in astonishment.

“It’s . . . “ she began, then faded, unable to truly verbalize her feelings. 

The bedroom also had a skylight, and the centerpiece of the room was the bed itself, a king-sized one on a platform, covered in a quilt of elegant fur in different shades, from light grey to dark sable, the patchwork design a cunning masterpiece of sensuality. House stepped forward and touched the spread, purring a little at the silky feel.

“Genuine mink—clearly Maxie has no problem with thumbing his nose at PETA.”

“That’s . . . immoral,” Allison objected. 

House looked over his shoulder at her. “Possibly, but point in fact, this quilt exists and it’s not only gorgeous, but it’s what we’re going to be sleeping under in the next twenty minutes. We have only a few pesky details to work out first.”

“We’re not sleeping in Maxim DeFiorza’s BED!” Allison objected, eyes wide. House sat on the edge and rested his chin on the handle of his cane, watching her pace back and forth. “We’re here to look for clues to his illness, supposedly, and what makes you think he doesn’t have this place wired for sound and visuals anyway?”

“He did—I turned them off when we came in, so for the moment it’s you, me, and this great big bed with flannel and fur, just begging for bare skin to slide into it . . . “ he told her, his voice soft and low. “Think of it—you and I, settled down for a little nap while the snow piles up outside, creating the perfect excuse to stay here overnight. And the things I long to do to you, little Allison, the _games_ I could teach you . . . “

She turned, catching his gaze, which was full of heat and power, the full force of his hunger evident in his pellucid eyes. Instantly she quivered, the jolt of desire rolling down her stomach and between her thighs.

“—Games?”

“Oh yes. But first, I need to know what you want. Are you willing to be my little Allison for the next twenty four hours? Are you ready to do whatever I say without objection?” House asked her, his tone serious. “Are you willing to . . . . trust me?”

She bit her lip and looked at him; House was perfectly still, his full attention on her face, his own expression slightly wary, and vulnerable in a way she hadn’t seen since her birthday. Allison sighed.

“House—“

“You can say no. You can always say no, and we can leave right now, before the snow gets too high,” he told her. “But if you say yes, then I promise you won’t regret a minute of it.”

“What are you going to do to me?” she asked, and that little question made him smile because it meant ‘yes’, even if she hadn’t said it yet. House took his cane and slid it up the inside of one of her legs.

“I’m going to show you what it’s like to be helpless, little Allison. Completely at the sensual mercy of a big, bad nasty-minded Doctor. It will be humiliating and exciting and ooh so very naughty. I’ll do things to you that would have Chase coming in his Dockers, and Foreman groaning, sweetheart. I’ll have you so deliciously exposed that Wilson would kill to be me, and even Cuddy would be licking her lips. You’re so damned sexy, and I’m going to play with you like the beautiful sex pet you ARE, Sweet Allison.”

She swayed a little, the power of his honeyed words and utterly wolfish gaze nearly overwhelming her right there. The flush of heat and chill over her skin made her dizzy, and Allison nodded before her courage failed her, slowly at first, but more vigorously as House looked at her.

“Good choice.”

 

***

“House—“ her tone was slightly worried. He tore off another piece of gauze tape with his teeth and wrapped it firmly around her wrist, then studied his handiwork.

“Shhhhh. Helpless, remember? And what better way to make you completely dependent on the big mean Doctor than to take away your sense of touch?”

Allison looked down at her hands. House had encased them in cotton mittens from the burn unit, and had wrapped them in gauze, leaving her with no ability to grip or hold anything. He’d wrapped the tape around her wrists, locking the soft bindings up, and she knew the only way she’d be able to get them off would be to use her teeth—and it would take a lot of time.

Helpless. The idea terrified and thrilled her at the same time. House hadn’t been kidding when he’d told her it was all a matter of trust now. She was at his mercy in a way she’d never anticipated, and it was making her wet almost against her will. 

House finished and looked at his work with pride. “Very nice. So I have a beautiful toy completely unable to touch herself or me—at least with her hands. You’re a smart girl though, Sweet Allison, and I’m sure you’ll find a few ways to carry out my orders. Right now, I need you to strip for me . . . oh that’s right, you can’t unzip or unbutton anything. I guess this means I’ll have to do it for you, won’t I?”

House rose up and loomed over her, his expression intense. “Tell me, have you ever fantasized about me taking your clothes off, Allison?”

She shuddered a little, not breaking the gaze even as her blush rose up across her pale skin. “Yes,” she admitted in a tiny voice. “Doctor.”

“I have too,” he told her, a huskiness in his tone. “This is going to be good.”

Carefully he moved to unbutton her blouse, his long fingers caressing the buttons. House looked down, and whispered, “Watch me. I’m undoing your blouse, Sweet Allison. This isn’t what colleagues do, is it? When you’re Doctor Cameron and I’m your supervisor Doctor House, I’m not supposed to touch you, let alone undo the buttons of your pretty clothes so I can look at your naked body. Professionals like us shouldn’t be thinking about doing things like this, should we?”

“N-no—“ she murmured, feeling him flick the blouse off her shoulders, his big hands coming up to caress her bare shoulders. House’s fingers stroked under her bra straps.

“Definitely not. I shouldn’t be looking at your lingerie, Doctor Cameron, this pretty lace brassiere with straps that I want to shift off your shoulders with my teeth.”

Her knees were knocking together, or very nearly. “No, Doctor,” she whispered. 

House leaned to her left shoulder, rubbing his stubble harshly over the delicate curve, then nipped lightly at her skin. She wavered a little on her feet, until he wrapped firm hands around her upper arms. “You’re so sensitive, sweet one,” he said caressingly, “and we’ve barely even started. Tasty.”

She felt the brush of his teeth as he locked them around the bra-strap, pulling on it. He let it snap back against her skin, chuckling when she jumped at the impact, and then he snagged it again with his teeth, pulling it down over her shoulder.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My ending to Chapter 1

He moved to her other shoulder, sinking his teeth into her this time, enough that she felt it, not enough to mark her. “Mmmm, yes, tasty indeed,” he purred throatily into her ear. “I can’t wait to see what the rest of you tastes like. Your nipples, your clit. Does that excite you, Allison? Have you fantasized about having me between your thighs, lapping up every sweet drop?”

She closed her eyes, feeling lightheaded. “Ye-yes, Doctor.”

“Of course, that’s totally inappropriate. You shouldn’t be thinking of me like that. Since I’m your boss and all. Just as I shouldn’t be doing _this_ -“ Teeth closed on her remaining bra-strap, pulling it down as well, and then House slipped his hands around her back, fingertips pausing over the clasp of her bra.

“I shouldn’t have been thinking about you, either,” he continued to whisper in her ear, the feel of his warm breath on her skin sending mild shocks right to her very core. “I shouldn’t have been fantastizing about what you might look like, under your clothes. What colour your nipples might be. How hard they might get if I just nibbled on them ever…so… _gently_.” Allison trembled, almost breathing a sigh of relief as House popped open the clasp, freeing her from the brassiere.

She ached for him to touch her, but House just slowly and patiently worked her blouse and bra over the bindings on her hands.

He paused, and she opened her eyes again, seeking him out. He was looking at her, leering at her half-naked body. “Just as pretty as I imagined. And just as needy. Look how hard your nipples already are. Just begging for my attention.”

Allison bit her lip. “Yes, Doctor.”

“Not yet, though,” he said with mock regret, reaching for the front of her slacks. A few sharp movements, and he was pushing the material down to puddle around her feet. “Oh yes, I forgot- you gave me these already,” he said in delight, pulling her panties out of his blazer pocket. “And no panty-hose, either? Such a thoughtful little sub you are.” He was rubbing the lacy fabric between his fingers, eyes focused avidly on the neatly trimmed triangle between her legs. “Step out of your pants and your shoes,” he commanded her, stowing the panties back in his pocket again.

She did as he said, chest flushing. She was totally naked except for her hand-bindings, and House was standing over her, fully-clothed. It was a show of power that made her feel so much more helpless than before.

“Before we have our little nap,” House suggested, “I think I’d like to get more comfortable. Do be a good little girl and help me undress? You’ll have to be creative, with no hands to help you out, but I’m sure you’ll come up with _something_.”

He was smirking at her, challenging her, and Allison thought fast. The blazer was relatively easy to get off, even her hobbled hands were able to work under the lapels and push them off his lean shoulders, then take hold of each sleeve and pull them off. 

His shirt was a different story, however. The small buttons were impossible to work loose with her hands in their current state. She did try, however, feeling frustrated, and House’s mocking expression didn’t help. Finally, she decided to try using her teeth. That wasn’t easy, either, but when she finally figured out how to use teeth and arduous tugging to accomplish her goal, House’s murmured praise made her feel almost as good as when she came up with a correct diagnosis.

But there were still countless buttons to go, so Allison didn’t stop long to savour her victory. More tugging, button by button, and she was able to slide her hands underneath the fabric and push it off him, offering a silent sigh of gratitude that he wasn’t wearing a t-shirt for once. 

“Very good, Sweet Allison. Halfway there, now,” House said, moving past her and lowering himself carefully onto the furred surface of the bed. “Now come over here and help me with the rest of this,” he ordered, absently running his hand back and forth over the rich furs.

Walking unsteadily over, Allison lowered herself to her knees and pressed her face to House’s fly. She was all too aware of him, his heat and his arousal, as she performed the now familiar maneuver to open his button, then taking the tab of the zipper in her teeth and lowering it all the way down. Her hands were able to complete the rest of the operation, House moving his hips to help her. Finally, it was just his socks and boxers to contend with. She did the socks first, rubbing them off of him with her hands. 

She couldn’t help looking up at that smouldering gaze, pressing one hand against his boxers. Even through the gauze and cotton on her hands, she could _feel_ him, hard as steel under her palm.

“Are you teasing me, you naughty girl?” he growled. “Be careful. You don’t want to waken the beast inside me. I’ve held back from ‘disciplining’ you at work, but you have no idea what I’m capable of, if you test me.”

“N-no,” Allison whispered back, now hurrying to carry out her task. Pressing her face into his lightly furred belly, she caught carefully at the waistband of his boxers with her teeth, until she could wriggle her hands underneath. A combination of teeth and hands, plus House’s cooperation, and he was soon naked, his desire obvious.

“Very good, little one,” he said approvingly, hoisting himself to his feet. “I’ll let your little slip-up go, just this once,” he added. “Now, pull back the covers. Your boss is going to take a little nap, and so are you.”

Allison bit her lip against a protest. After all that buildup, she didn’t want a _nap_ , she wanted him to _touch_ her. But she wasn’t going to disobey. Maybe he’d touch her once they were under the covers.

It didn’t happen. House climbed into bed, gave her another heated leer, and then closed his eyes. Allison lay beside him and waited, but he did nothing else. Frustrated, she tried to furtively rub a hand across herself, but the bindings thwarted her by removing much of the sensation. Finally, she sighed and rolled over. 

 

***

Allison was woken from a very vivid dream - one where House had her red cocktail dress up around her thighs and was enthusiastically eating her out right on his desk - by a sharp slap on the behind.

Jolted awake, Allison glared up at House, forgetting herself for a moment. Until the sight of his bare body and the hungry light in his eyes reminded her. Limping to a nearby chair, House lowered himself into it. “Pull the sheets back and let me look at you,” he ordered.

Allison did as he said, the needy ache already starting to swirl inside her.

“Very nice. You look nice in red. Red dresses, red flannel bedsheets…reddened lips and nipples,” he added. “And reddened _elsewhere,_ too? I wonder. I’ll see for myself soon enough.”

Allison squirmed a little at the sound of his voice. But his next command caught her off-guard: “Now, make the bed.”

“What?” She didn’t know what she’d expected from him, but not that. 

“You heard me, little Allison. Chop-chop,” he said, eyes riveted on her body.

It was clumsy, the bindings again getting in her way, but soon the bed was back to its original state, the furs smoothed into place. She looked at House, waiting for his next command.

“Very good. Now get on the bed on your hands and knees.” His voice was low and smoky, and Allison suppressed a shudder, climbing up as he instructed.

“I want you to bend your arms, until those pretty nipples are rubbing against the furs. And then I want you to crawl slowly back and forth across the bed. Don’t stop until I tell you to.”

Half mortified and half aroused, Allison once again did as she was told. The fur was cool and soft, slipping silkily over her nipples, under her knees, and House was still watching her, his gaze like a searing brand.

“Doesn’t that feel nice, Allison?”

“Yes,” she said, continuing to move, to make the fur stroke across her sensitive nipples. 

“I’m sure it does. All that soft fur, rubbing against you…tell me, Allison, what kind of ‘interesting’ thoughts have you been having about me?”

Allison came to a stop, wide-eyed and suddenly feeling just a bit panicky. Exposed on so many levels. “That wasn’t the deal, I gave you my panties-“

“Keep moving, Allison,” House rasped, suddenly harsh. “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

Red-faced, Allison continued to crawl. “That’s better,” House said more calmly. “I’m _changing_ the deal,” he went on. “And you have no say in the matter. You’re _mine_ , and the sooner you give in, little one, the better this will feel.”

“Yes, Doctor,” Allison managed to whisper. Now she knew what he’d meant by ‘humiliating and exciting’. Crawling in front of him, naked, about to reveal her innermost fantasies-

“So, regale me with some tales. What you’ve wanted me to do to you, all this time. Give me some ideas on what will please you. What will make you come so hard for me, that your throat’ll be raw for _days_ from screaming.”

Swallowing hard, the heat gathering sweetly between her thighs, Allison kept her gaze on the furs ahead of her, and began. “I thought about you tying me to your bed,” she said breathlessly. “I thought about your mouth and-“

“How?” House cut in, his gaze intent and focused when she dared to look over. “How do I tie you up, little one? On your back, all your limbs pinned down? On your hands and knees, so I can use that glorious ass? I want _specifics_ , sweet Allison.”

“Both,” she went on, her face hot, but also all the regions between her legs. “Tying me face-up on the bed, tight enough that I can barely move. Blindfolding me and then using your hands and your mouth on me. Or tying me down on my belly, so you can spank me and then…take me from behind.”

“Mmm, that does sound enjoyable,” House purred. Allison glanced over at him again, gratified to see he had his hand around himself, slowly coaxing.

“I’ve thought about having your fingers inside me,” she went on, gaze firmly back in front of her. “About how it would feel to have you push them hard into me. About how it would feel to have your mouth on me, your tongue-“

“I’ve thought about that, too,” he said raspily. “I remember how sweet you tasted on my fingers when I made you come the last time. I wonder how that clit of yours would feel under my tongue. I’ll bet it’s all swollen now, waiting for my touch, isn’t it?”

“Y-yes,” she answered, but House wasn’t done. 

“I’ve thought about _using_ you all night, mercilessly. Making you come for me, over and over, until your body can’t do it any longer. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Doctor,” she said, feeling tingly and weak and ready to collapse bonelessly on top of the furs. Except House hadn’t ordered her to stop moving yet.

“Look at me,” he said sharply, and she did, continuing to crawl. Continuing to caress herself with the motion across the furs. 

“Gorgeous,” he said approvingly, eyes now lingering on her blushing face. “I told you, you _do_ look good in red.” He rose to his feet. “Crawl to the middle of the bed, and lie down on your back. Arms up. Spread your legs.”

Heart racing in her chest, Allison did as he said, very conscious of her breasts rising and falling with her laboured breathing. Watching House as he went over to his backpack, returning with a handful of short lengths of soft cotton rope.

She looked up at him, but he was absorbed in his task, winding the rope several times around one wrist, then knotting it and securing the free end around the bars of the headboard.

He limped away, taking hold of her ankle and winding the rope firmly. Securing her limb to the bed. Her other ankle was accorded the same treatment, and finally he was attending to her other wrist. When everything was secure, he stood at the foot of the bed, eyes drinking her in while the hand not on his cane absently rubbed at his bad thigh.

Allison tugged on the bonds, testing them. A tiny bit of give, that was all. She was truly at House’s mercy now.

Gazing over her, predator’s smirk firmly in place, House stalked slowly around the bed, sliding his cane lightly along her skin. Cool, slippery wood stroking along the inside of her thigh, glancing over a stiff nipple, brushing teasingly over her dark curls. “House!” she gasped, her body on fire.

“You want me, do you?” House crooned. “I’m so pleased. But just like at work, you have to _earn_ it, little Allison. Are you willing to do whatever I ask of you?”

The look in his eyes was a little frightening in its intensity. As badly as she wanted him, Allison hesitated. 

Smirking wolfishly, House shuffled over until he could lean to her ear, continuing to idly stroke her body with the cane. “Answer quickly, Sweet Allison. You wouldn’t want me to untie you and call the whole thing off, would you?”

Eyes widening in panic, she assured him: “No! I mean, yes! I’ll do whatever you want, Doctor.”

“That’s the right answer, Allison. Good girl.” She watched, confused, as he freed her right hand from the rope, and then limped back to his chair. What was he doing?

House sat there, sprawled lazily, twirling his cane. “I want you nice and wet for me. And I want you to work for it, work for my attentions. Show me how you touch yourself when you’re at home alone, thinking of me. I know it’ll be difficult with all that cotton and gauze in the way, but I’m sure you’ll solve the problem.”

Colour rushed to her face, but his earlier threat to end their game was enough to make her obey. She slipped her bound hand down to her breast, rubbing it softly across a nipple. The bindings frustrated her; she couldn’t get her hand to work properly, it didn’t feel as good on her skin as touching herself with bare hands. But House’s rapt gaze, eyes locked to her hand’s motions, his erection swollen and obviously primed for her made it more pleasing than she would have expected.

She slipped her hand to her other nipple, closing her eyes for a moment. “No,” he ordered harshly. “Keep looking at me.”

That was when he pulled the cell phone out of his pocket, flipping it open. Allison froze, thinking he was going to call someone. The very idea left her angry and afraid that the someone in question – Wilson? Chase? _Cuddy_? – would somehow realize what was going on. But then he held up the phone, facing it towards her, and she realized what he was doing instead.

He was recording it. Recording _her_ , naked with her thighs splayed wide, tied up except for one hand. With which she was touching herself. “H-House, what-“ she gasped, fruitlessly trying to cover herself. She didn’t have enough limbs free, couldn’t hide everything.

“Hush, my sweet,” he said soothingly. “No one’s going to ever see this except you and I. So don’t stop,” he added. “If you get me annoyed, why, I might accidentally hit the ‘send’ button, and then Wilson might get a very pleasant surprise, won’t he? But I’m sure you won’t like that so much. So do as you were told.”

The iron in his voice let her know that he was being deadly serious. Play, or go home (blizzard permitting), those were the options. She had to trust him, that was all.

Slowly, Allison resumed touching herself. Pressing the hand to each nipple to coax them back to erection, placing light strokes down her belly. 

“Very good,” he complimented her. “You’re so beautiful, all flushed and embarrassed and _wet_. Hmm, but I can’t let you touch yourself between your legs with all that gauze, can I? That would just soak up all those sweet juices.” He tilted his head, seeming deep in thought.

Then his eyes lit up devilishly. “I know! Chicks dig the hardwood, after all.” Giving his cane a last rapid twirl, he hitched back up to his feet and crossed to the bed, handing her his cane. She clutched it tightly, the cursed hand binding making the slick wood very hard to get a reliable grip on.

She waited until he was back in his seat, one hand holding the cell phone with surprisingly steadiness, the other moving slowly up and down on himself. “What am I supposed to do with this?” Allison asked. It wasn’t a challenge – not intended as such, anyways – but she was genuinely confused for a moment.

“Why, I thought that was obvious! It’s got a nice loooong shaft,” he said suggestively, “I’m sure it would fit nicely between those gorgeous lips of yours. And no, I don’t mean your _mouth_.”

Allison gaped at him in shock, and House smirked even more evilly.

“Come now, little Allison, you can’t tell me you haven’t wondered, in the deepest darkest recesses of your private thoughts, what it would feel like to ride my big bad cane? Whether you could create some delicious friction for your clit with all that long, hard wood?”

Oh God, it was true, she had. She’d just never imagined doing it herself, while House just sat there. Looking on.

“Well go ahead, try it. No one to see but you and me and my very private and personal porno-filming device.”

If there was any blood left in her body that wasn’t rushing to her face in her mortification, Allison would’ve been very surprised. Despite that, she moved to obey him, positioning the cane between her legs. Because she _had_ wondered, yes. Quite a number of times, in fact. And now here she was, and House was orchestrating every moment. 

Cool hardness brushed against her as she tried to angle the cane just right, and she arched as much as the bonds would allow, trying to press herself harder against the shaft.

It was so frustrating. She’d find the right angle for a moment, just the right pressure in all the right areas, and then the hand binding would make her lose her grip and the sweet friction would escape her.

She bit her lip, very aware of the weight of House’s attention, and tried everything she could think of. Finally, she wrapped her hand around the cane’s flat handle, jamming the butt hard into the furs, close enough that she could rub herself slightly up and down against it. Tiny, maddening movements, but when the friction went uninterrupted she was able to feel it working, feel herself getting closer and closer, the pleasure gathering inside her, House’s eyes raptly watching everything and making this even more erotic-

“Are you enjoying yourself, Sweet Allison?” he asked. 

“Yessss,” she replied. So close, just a little more-

“Stop,” he ordered hoarsely, and Allison glared in consternation. “Did I say you could come yet?” He snapped his cell closed and pushed himself to his feet, tossing the phone unconcernedly onto the chair behind him.

“Give it here, and watch me,” he said, then took the cane from her shaky, outstretched hand. Allison watched in disbelief and lust as he leisurely licked her juices from the smooth wood. “Tastes as good as I remember,” he said, winking at her.

“However, there’s nothing quite like the _source_ -“ hooking his cane over the headboard, House slithered onto the bed, shifting over until he was between her thighs. He’d never actually done this to her before, she’d never had his handsome face between her thighs, cerulean eyes cresting the rise of her mound like this. It was as exciting as she’d always imagined.

His hot tongue caressed her, slow and deliberate. She twisted and tried to arch, mewing desperately. So sensitive, so needy, but he wasn’t the one in a hurry. His lips and tongue grazed lovingly across her clit, but then he’d turn his attentions to another area, drawing out the game. Over and over.

“Please, Doctor,” she whispered.

“Please, what?” he demanded, smirking. “Tell me what you want, Allison.”

She was too far gone to care what she was saying anymore. “Please, lick my clit. L-let me come.”

“You have no idea how hot you are like this. All helpless and wanton and begging me.” His mouth sealed itself around her, suckling the tender, aching node, a fingertip probing around the entrance to her body, and she strained, sure she was going to climax any second.

But then he pulled away, frustrating her again. “You bastard!” she spat. 

He laughed, low and evil. “So impatient, my naughty girl. You’ll learn.” Slowly, mindful of his thigh, he crawled over her. She could feel his body heat against her skin, but there was no actual contact, no matter how she tried to writhe and squirm to achieve it.

House was getting up off the bed, and Allison felt a sudden flash of fear. Had she broken the rules? Was the game over? She throbbed, she _hurt_ in the most delicious of ways, and if he stopped now, she might just lose her mind.

But no, House was rummaging in his backpack in a leisurely manner, as if he had all the time in the world. He finally found what he was looking for, holding it secreted in his hand as he made his way back to the bed. 

Kneeling slowly astride her, he ordered her to watch, as he took the time to stroke himself to a full, raging hardness. He ripped open whatever was in his hand, and she realized he’d been going for a condom.

Holding himself up with one hand, he positioned himself to invade her, and pushed hard, a deep thrust that left her tingling, all the air driven from her lungs. 

But then he slowed everything down again. Pulling out of her with agonizing slowness, almost all the way. Pushing in again, languid and unhurried, giving each nerve ending its due. 

Her desperation was building again, she needed him to go faster, take her harder. “Please,” she begged him again.

“Very well,” he acquiesced. “You’ve been such a good little sub.” He shoved into her again, hard and fast, this time holding the pace. But the game wasn’t quite over. “Don’t come until I tell you,” he ordered, even as he transferred all his weight to one arm, so that his other hand could find her clit and gently stroke it.

The pleasure crested, trying to take her over, and she had to fight it, fight the sweetness. Every moment, she was sure she was going to lose the battle, give in and let it roll over her. But she managed to obey House, to keep herself right on the edge, even as he stepped up his pressure on her clit, moving even faster inside her.

“Do you want to come, Allison?” he asked her after an eternity.

“Yes, please!” she sobbed.

“Then come for me. Come now,” came the low-voiced command, and she was exploding everywhere, liquid heat boiling over and consuming her, him, the room….the world.

She was barely aware of House climaxing, the feeling of his rhythmic pulsing inside her, barely aware of the heavy weight of him collapsing across her. 

Still, she would remember later the feeling of his lips brushing across her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks and lips, and his murmured words of praise.

 

***

Allison woke sometime later. Alone and under the flannel and the furs again, still naked but no longer bound, even the hand-bindings removed. 

But where was House?

She got up, dressing quickly. Snow was piled high against the windows and the skylight above, but the wind no longer howled and the white flakes didn’t spin and twirl down from the sky. The blizzard was over.

She heard a muted sound and made her way towards it. House was in Maxim DeFiorza’s kitchen, rummaging under the sink.

“What are you doing?” she asked. 

He pulled back with a q-tip and a sample jar, favouring her with a sly wink. “Covering our asses, of course. Can’t stay here for so many hours and then leave empty-handed.” He rattled the sample jar suggestively.

She smirked, wrapping her arms around herself. He thought of everything.

House got up and limped towards her, the lecherous look returning. “Did little Allison enjoy our bedroom games earlier?” He stopped when he was standing barely an inch away, towering over her. 

“Yes,” she said, looking up at him steadily.

“Good, because I’m sure I can think up some others. ‘Naked Twister’ has always been a personal favourite.”

“I’m sure,” Allison answered back, smiling. 

“But that’s for later,” House said, leaning down and brushing a kiss across her lips. “For now, our desires have been sated, I have ‘samples’ to test, and the snow has stopped. Let’s tidy up here and see if we can’t help DeFiorza live to see a little fun in his own bed, shall we?”

Satisfied in more ways than one, Allison took the sample jars he handed her and nodded. “Yes, Doctor.”

 

To read [](http://cincoflex.livejournal.com/profile)[**cincoflex**](http://cincoflex.livejournal.com/)'s ending to the story, click [here](http://cincoflex.livejournal.com/153997.html#cutid1).


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